


Happy Birthday, John!

by Lamsfan



Series: Lams [12]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Alex probably does too, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charles Lee is an ass for no reason, Established Relationship, Historical Inaccuracy, Injury, John has a little PTSD, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-08 18:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamsfan/pseuds/Lamsfan
Summary: John got a surprise for his birthday, just not the one he expected.





	1. Fried Chicken

“Okay, just hurry home.  I’ve got a birthday surprise for you.” Alex put his phone on speaker and placed it on the table next to the flowers, yellow Jessamine, he arranged into a centerpiece while they spoke.  It wasn’t the best flower for a bouquet; it was full of vines and every part of it was poisonous but its flowers looked like sunshine, it had a sweet fragrance, and Alex knew John would appreciate a reminder of home. 

John continued making notes in the patient chart in his hands and tried hard to keep his mind on the orders he needed to finish before he could leave.  Alex’s surprises, especially when he announced them, were often of a more heated, less innocent nature.  He liked it and looked forward to getting home to see what he had planned.  His face warmed and he shook his head to clear away the desire.  “I just have one more patient to see and I’m on my way.” 

“Text me when you leave the hospital so I can make sure everything is ready.” 

John agreed and ended the call so he could get moving.  He hated his birthday in his younger years; when his mother died, it seemed his childhood, and all the happy things that go with youth, ended.  Throughout high school he felt his only options were to marry the daughter of one of his father’s business associates and study law.  But in college, he met Alex, smart, beautiful, passionate Alex, and he learned his options were unlimited.  He changed his major to biology, started drawing again, and told his father to get bent.  His birthdays now were happy affairs and he couldn’t wait to get home. 

Hello, Mr. Lee,” he greeted his crotchety and angry patient as he squirted hand sanitizer and entered the room.  “How is your side?  Any pain today?” 

“If you hadn’t been so inept, Doctor,” he drew out the syllables in the word and smiled inside when he saw the brief flash of irritation on John’s face, “I wouldn’t still be here.” 

“Mr. Lee, your infection was not my fault. Had you sought treatment when you were first shot,” John held up his hand to stop Mr. Lee from interjecting, “we could have placed you on a course of antibiotics immediately.  Frankly, you were lucky.  Had the young man been a better shot, you’d probably be dead.  I’m not sure what possessed you to accept a duel in the first place.  You do know this is 21st century, right?” 

Lee seethed and he twisted the sheets in his hands, pulling against the restraints that tied him to the bedrails.  This young doctor had sassed him from the time he was admitted, making light of his situation and implying he was foolish and old.  He had lain in bed for three days waiting for the fever to pass and for enough strength to exact his revenge.  He knew a jail sentence awaited him; he had discharged a gun in public, after all.  A few more months wouldn’t matter and Today. Was. The. Day. 

John pulled on his gloves and adjusted the sheet to examine the wound.  The swelling had gone down and though the skin still showed a rainbow of colors, the stitches now lay flat.  He redid the bandages and started to move away, knocking one of the used gauze pads to the floor.  He bent to retrieve it and suddenly felt Lee’s hand in his hair, pulling it sharply and holding him close to the bed. 

“Mr. Lee.  Let go of me.  You’re already in enough trouble.  Don’t make it worse.”  Lee continued to pull and twist. 

“You come in here every day with your fancy talk and expensive clothes.  Well, you are not better than me, Doctor Laurens, and I’m about to show you how little your life means.”  Somehow Lee raised his other hand as the restraint on that arm came free. 

John yelled out for the officer on duty in the hall.  The last thing he saw before he blacked out from the pain was the end of the sharpened toothbrush slamming into his shoulder again and again, slicing the skin and twisting through the muscle. 

Alex had set the table with their best dishes, lit the candles, and put the wine in a bucket of ice.  The smell of fried chicken filled the air.  Alex had been practicing it at Lafayette’s condo for weeks.  He considered himself a decent cook but his first versions were disasters.  Burned on the outside, perfect inside.  Perfect outside, raw inside.  Bland.  Salty.  Dry.  But he had kept trying and tonight’s version looked and smelled perfect.   John just needed to hurry home while that perfect combination of crunchy goodness and juiciness still existed.    

Alex picked up his phone to check the time.  John hadn’t called or texted to say he was on his way. Maybe he had missed the call while he showered.  No, no missed call notification.  Alex could feel the anxiety building, twisting in his stomach and nearly bending him over in pain.  The phone rang and when Alex saw the main hospital number, he fought the nausea, knowing John was on the other end, calling to say he was just running late. 

“Hey, babe.  I was starting to get worried.”  He stopped, waiting to hear John’s voice but instead heard someone identifying himself as a doctor at John’s hospital.  Alex missed the name; the nausea returned and he was fighting just to make out the words.  “Stabbed.”  “Artery.”  “Surgery.”  Single words that made no sense.  Was John dead?  Had he been dying while Alex inspected their fancy glasses for spots, wiped off plates? 

“Mr. Hamilton.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”  He didn’t.  

“Is there someone who can bring you to the hospital?” 

Alex’s head cleared enough for him to respond.  “No, I can get a taxi at the corner,” he finally managed to say.  Could he really?  He moved quickly through the brownstone, patting his jacket to make sure he had his keys, wallet and phone, checking to make sure the oven was turned off, and blowing out the candles. 

Alex had waited in the hall for hours before the surgeon came to tell him John had survived.  He had lost so much blood in the few minutes it had taken the officer to reach Lee’s room and subdue him.  They were able to repair the damage but he would need weeks, maybe months, of physical therapy to regain full use of his arm.  When Alex entered the room, John lay in bed facing away from the door, covered in a thin sheet and blanket.  Monitors beeped, slowly and rhythmically and Alex’s eyes focused on the IV dripping slowly into John’s arm.  He looked so pale.  But he was alive.  

He pulled a chair close to the bed and took John’s hand, being careful not to jostle him or the machinery.  The hours passed and Alex watched the moon through the window as it made its way across the sky.  He dozed on and off but he never let go of John’s hand.  As the sun rose and made streaks of light across the bed, John’s eyes blinked open and his head turned slowly towards Alex.  “Hey.” His voice sounded tired but he curved his fingers to fit Alex’s.  He always liked holding Alex’s hand; it was soft, except for the small calluses on the tip of his index finger and the joint of his middle finger from all his writing, and warm.  

“Hi, babe,” Alex croaked.  He had tried to fight the tears on the ride to the hospital but even after his brief nap, his throat still tightened as he spoke.  “Nice way to get some attention on your birthday.  I wish you had told me you needed some pampering.”  

John coughed when he tried to laugh and Alex saw a few extra beats on the heart monitor.  “You look like you could use some pampering, too.” 

Alex rubbed his thumb over John’s knuckles and took a deep breath.  “I thought I had lost you.  I love you and I don’t know what I would do without you.  Please don’t scare me like that again.” 

“I didn’t mean to.  I was trying to get home to sample your fried chicken.” 

“You knew?” 

“Not hard to figure out.  When you and Laf have your boys’ nights, you used to smell like cigarette smoke from whatever bar you went to.  Lately, you’ve smelled like fried chicken; it’s a smell I’d know anywhere.  My mom cooked it every Sunday.  You never brought me any,” John licked his lips and Alex gave him a cup of water to take a sip, “so I put two and two together.  I know how you like to do ‘Southern’ things as surprises for my birthday.”  In his head, there were finger quotes around ‘Southern’ but with one arm strapped to his chest and his other hand being held tightly, the air quotes stayed in his head. 

“Well, I worked hard on it and now look,” Alex joked.  “It’s going to be so dry when you get home.” 

“I’m going to be here for a few days, so it’s going to be more than dry.  Maybe you can freeze it?” 

“Nah, it’s been out all night.  It should have been refrigerated hours ago.”  He stopped suddenly.  “Why are we talking about the chicken?  You almost died.”  Neither of them spoke.  Alex gently pulled their hands apart and touched his engagement ring.  “I know we talked about having a big wedding but I don’t want to wait.  Let’s have a judge, or someone, come here.  We can have a big party later but I don’t want to spend another day waiting to become your husband.” 

“Alex, you’re just upset…”  Those were the only words John got out before Alex cut him off. 

“You’re damn right I’m upset!  A crazy patient stabbed you!  While you were doing your job!”  Alex could hear his voice rising, sounding more and more shrill and panicked.  “I don’t want to wait.  Let’s get married today.”


	2. I Do, I Do, I Do

“Good morning, sir.  I’m sorry to bother you so early but I have a bit of an emergency and I won’t be in today.”  Alex had called his boss, Mr. Washington, the closest thing he had to a father, for help.  He filled him in on everything: the attack, John’s recovery needs, and their desire to get married immediately. 

“We have our marriage license.  We got it almost immediately after John proposed.  I wanted to go to the courthouse, but southern gentleman that he is, John insisted on something more formal.”  That hadn’t been the only debate.  Would one side of the church be empty while the other was filled with John’s many cousins and his father’s business associates?  Would John wait at the altar while Alex entered the church?  Would they take John’s last name?  Alex’s last name?  A combination of the two?  Eventually they had stopped talking about the ceremony altogether. 

Alex shook away those questions.  They all seemed so unimportant now.  “What we don’t have is an officiant.  I was wondering if you knew a judge who would be willing to come to the hospital.  I know it’s a huge favor to ask.” 

“I might know someone.  Let me see what I can do.  I’ll call you back in few minutes.  Is there anything else you need?” 

“Yes, I need that bastard, Charles Lee, to rot in hell.  Do you know he’s saying he was so sick with fever, he didn’t know what he was doing?  He claims he thought the guy who shot him was back to finish him off and he was just protecting himself.”  

“Don’t worry about him.  Let’s just get you boys married.” 

 

Mr. Washington and his wife, Martha, worked miracles.  By early afternoon the room had been filled with red and yellow roses, tulips, chrysanthemums, and gladioli.   Lafayette had arrived with Alex’s best suit, the rings and a small cake.  John had been examined and deemed well enough for a short ceremony.  He had been bathed and shaved, his hair brushed and pulled into a neat ponytail, and the blanket pulled neatly over his torso.  Despite his sling and hospital gown, his good looks still dazzled and Alex couldn’t help but stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Do you, Alexander Hamilton, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”  Governor George Clinton presided over the ceremony as a favor to his friend, George Washington.  He had been on the golf course, meeting with a potential vendor, when the call had come in.  He had changed in the car while his motorcade made its way to the hospital and now stood at the foot of John’s bed, Bible in hand. 

Alex placed John’s ring on the third finger of his right hand, another concession to their unorthodox ceremony.  They would move it to his left hand once the swelling had gone down. “I do.”

“They have vowed, in our presence, to be loyal and loving towards one another,” Governor Clinton continued as he faced the witnesses.  “They have formalized the bond between them with spoken vows and the giving and receiving of rings.  Therefore, it is my pleasure to pronounce them married.”  He turned back to John and Alex, catching John smiling goofily and Alex wiping away a tear.  “You may seal your union with a kiss.”

Alex bent carefully and brought his face close to John’s.  Their warm breath mingled.  “I love you,” he whispered as he pressed their lips together.  The warmth spread through him, the feeling both familiar and new, and he pressed more firmly as he committed the moment to memory.  He thought he heard clapping and catcalls of ‘get a room’ in the background but the most beautiful sound was John’s soft voice responding, “I love you, too.”

“Okay,” Dr. Mann said cheerfully as he interrupted the apple cider toasts being made to the newlyweds.  He checked John’s vitals and injected pain medicine into his IV. “My patient needs some rest.  Mr. Hamilton, you’re welcome to stay again if you’d like.  I’ve ordered a cot for you.  I know that’s not very romantic for a honeymoon but it’s probably better than the chair you used last night. That had to have been hard on your back and neck.” 

Alex instinctively rubbed the back of his neck; he had almost forgotten about the pain during the ceremony. Maybe he could have Dr. Mann prescribe something for him, too. Still, he he had no intention of leaving and as soon as the others had said their goodbyes, he removed his jacket and tie and climbed into the narrow hospital bed, curling up next to his husband.  “Get some sleep.  It’s been a busy day.  I’ll wake you when your dinner comes.”

“Not hungry,” John mumbled as the pain medicine took effect and his eyes drifted shut.  As John's breathing evened out, Alex felt the fatigue and worry and stress of the past day taking over his body and he closed his eyes as well.

 

The crispy chicken legs flipped themselves over when the alarm rang, allowing the sun to toast the sides that had been facing the beach towels.  The wings floated lazily in the pool, coating themselves in the sweet, tangy, red liquid. 

Wait. What?  Alex awoke with a start and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. 

“Are you hungry?”  John laughed when he caught his husband’s eye.  He rolled the word over in his mind.  Husband.  It had a good sound and they had waited too long.  “You were licking your fingers and telling the chicken how good it looked.” 

“Yeah,” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “I am.”  The nap had been good, at least until his stomach started sending weird messages to his brain.  He winked at John.   “I think you might recall how I got stood up for dinner last night.”  His growling stomach interrupted him.  “Did I even eat anything earlier?  I honestly don’t remember.”  

“I think you had a few sips of cider and a bite of cake before Dr. Mann broke up our reception.  I heard the food cart in the hall a little while ago.”  The smell of something, John wasn’t sure what, wafted into the room and turned his stomach.  The nausea might also have been an aftereffect of the anesthesia but he took a few deep breaths to push it down.  “I’m not that hungry.  I’ll share my nutritionally sound, but probably taste deficient, hospital dinner with you.” 

“No, you won’t,” Lafayette interrupted as he entered the room, carrying a huge picnic basket.  He was no longer dressed in the suit he had worn to the wedding but he was just as striking in the dark jeans and sweater he had changed into.  “Hospital food is not appropriate for your first meal as a married couple.”  He surveyed the two men squished together in a bed clearly meant for one.  “I didn’t interrupt any uh, what’s the word, hanky panky, did I?” 

“No, you perve.  We were just taking a nap.”  But Alex imagined how they looked, cuddled together, his hair haloed over John’s chest and his lips wet from licking them during his chicken dream.  He waved off the thought.  “What’s in the basket?” 

“You’ll see.  Now, John, Dr. Mann wants you to take another short walk before you eat.  By the time you two get back, dinner will be ready.” 

John groaned at the suggestion but he knew the benefits of walking after surgery.  And since he wanted to be released in the morning, he planned to follow the rules, well most of them.  With Alex’s help, he raised himself up in the bed, swung his legs to the side and slipped his feet into the hospital slippers.  After some maneuvering, he stood, with Alex at his side to support him. 

“You’ve got ten minutes,” he called over his shoulder to Lafayette.  “Work fast.  My husband is hungry.  And, yes, I’m going to be one of those newlyweds.” 

Lafayette rolled his eyes in mock irritation and laughed to himself when an old episode of Seinfeld popped into his head. 'Maybe the dingo ate your baby' Elaine had said. He began laying out their meal and by the time they returned, Lafayette had placed a small cloth on the bed table and filled it with their favorite soups and salads paired with crusty buttered bread.  “I didn’t want to bring anything too heavy, just something warm and comforting.” 

“It’s perfect, Laf.”  Alex wiped away another tear and silently berated himself for being such a crybaby over the past twenty-four hours.  “Thank you for everything.  I don’t know how we would have pulled any of this together without you.” 

John nodded in agreement before adding, “You’ve been a true friend.  Not just today.  You’ve always been there for us. Thank you.”  

“Yes, yes, I am wonderful.  I even left a dessert for you. Eat. Get some rest.  I will check on you tomorrow.  And don’t give the nurses a hard time.”  Lafayette hugged his friends, being careful of John’s shoulder, and bade them goodnight, happy to have brought some joy to their special day.  He really would do anything for them.  They were more than his best friends; they were his brothers. 

They fed one another bits of food, holding hands and stealing kisses between bites.  

“Hon, your lips feel warm.”  Alex untangled their hands and touched his forehead, even though he knew that wasn’t a scientific way to check for a fever.  “How do you feel?  Should I call Dr. Mann?” 

“No, not Dr. Mann.  But would you go out to the nurses’ station and ask one of them to come in and take my temperature, please?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> red roses =love  
> yellow roses=friendship and optimism  
> gladioli=strength and moral integrity  
> chrysanthemums=longevity, fidelity, joy and optimism  
> tulips=declaration of true love
> 
> The sweet, tangy, red liquid is mumbo sauce, which is a DC thing despite what their mayor says.


	3. The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

“I’m glad you had the nurse call me, Mr. Hamilton.  I can understand why you were worried but it’s nothing to be concerned about.  He’s healthy and strong.  This little fever is just his body trying to heal.”  Dr. Mann removed his gloves, placed them in the red biohazard container in the corner of the room and squirted a dollop of hand sanitizer from the dispenser near the door.  

“His blood work came back fine.  There’s no sign of infection, so I think another night of rest, more fluids and some acetaminophen, if you’re uncomfortable,” he turned to John, “will do the trick.  I’d like to discharge you tomorrow.  You know as well as I do that you should get out of here as soon as possible.” 

John did know.  Between being sleep deprived by middle of the night tests and having circadian rhythms disrupted, patients were often treated with drugs that impaired judgment and function.  The risk of falls increased, patients were often malnourished because they didn’t like the look or smell of the hospital food, germs could be carried from room to room despite how often the hospital staff washed their hands.  John knew he would be better off at home, even if it meant Alex would behave like a mother hen, fussing over him and wringing his hands. 

“That’s good news, Alex.  I told you it was nothing,” he said after Dr. Mann left.  He swallowed the acetaminophen and chased it with a cup of water. 

Alex could usually organize his thoughts in his head and make logical and clear arguments, regardless of the topic.  But now he felt rattled and confused and blurted “I know.  I’m just worried about everything.  This, this,” he helplessly waved his arms at John’s shoulder.   “We’ve both been sick or injured before.   Just look at you and this shoulder.  What’s this?  The second, third time it’s been hurt?  That seemed like normal stuff and I felt like we would always be okay.  This came from nowhere.  Talk about completely unexpected!  He tried to kill you!  This was not in our plans.  Seriously, who expects to be stabbed at work?  What’s the next thing that’ll happen?  Where can we be safe?”  

“Alex,” he said softly, and though he hated to raise his voice, he called him again, louder and a little more sharply.  He needed to stop him from continuing down this path.  “Alex!  Come here.”  He reached for Alex with his good arm and pulled him close, nuzzling his head to his chest.  “I’m here.  I’m alive.  My shoulder will heal.  And we’re married.  No matter what happens, I will always be here.  We will always be together.” 

“I’ll go, we’ll go,” he said, waving his hand towards each of them, remembering that Alex had been at the hospital with him almost the whole time, “home tomorrow.  You’ll go back to work, I’ll sleep all day.  I’ll order some dinner and when you get home, we’ll celebrate my birthday.”  He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

Alex felt his nerves easing and he found the strength to wipe his eyes.  “You goof.  Come on.  I’ll help you brush your teeth.  We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”


	4. Ladies and Gentleman, Presenting the Newlyweds!

John watched Alex’s hair fly past in a blur, just before the door slammed shut and the reverberations shook the bottles of aftershave and cologne lining the shelves in the open armoire.  He had been standing in front of it when Alex entered, notebook in one hand, pen in the other, phone caught between his ear and shoulder while he made last minute arrangements with the caterer. 

“John,” he complained when he ended the call, “this party is for both of us.  Can you help a little?  No, never mind helping.  Can you act just the least bit excited?” 

Guilt seized him as he thought about how he had left all of the planning for the reception to Alex.  They were married and that was all he needed. All he wanted.  So he skipped the gift registry; Lafayette enjoyed it more than he ever would have.  He had sent photos of Alex using the scanner to add glasses, china, linen, and small appliances to their registry.  They didn’t need any of it but Alex had convinced him people would want to give them wedding gifts and they should get what they really wanted. 

He attended the menu sampling and the cake tasting begrudgingly.  Between his hospital stay and slow, sedentary recuperation at home, he could see softening in his abs and thighs and he didn’t like it.  Why couldn’t this party wait until he had been able to get back to the gym?  He had said he would take care of the music, and he did.  He hired the two bands Washington had recommended; a string quartet to play during the dinner portion and a band for dancing later. 

These big parties reminded John too much of the lavish political receptions his father used to throw, trotting him and his siblings out like trophies, proof of his wealth and virility.  Coming out to his father, then not following him into a law career and a run for office, were the biggest decisions of his life.  Alex, on the other hand, came into his life like both a whirlwind and a soft breeze and changed him for the better.  They fit like two parts of the whole, each completing the other and John knew he owed him just a little excitement about the reception. 

“Alex, wait.”  He crossed the room and opened the bedroom door in time to see Alex duck into their shared office.  He knocked softly.  “Alex?”  No answer.  “Can I come in?”  Still no answer.  He turned the knob and was happy to find the door wasn’t locked.  Alex was open to having a conversation; it would just take a little work. 

John sat on the loveseat next to Alex and pulled his head into his lap, slowing stroking the long dark hair until Alex’s breathing slowed and became more even.  He hadn’t been crying but the sadness seemed to radiate from his body.  “Alex, love, I’m sorry.  I’ve been insensitive.  This is important to you and if I didn’t want it, I should have said so before things progressed so far.”    

“You don’t want to be married to me,” Alex said, his hot lips pressed against John’s pants leg. 

John cut him off before he could say anything else.  “Not true and you know it!”  Alex didn’t move or say anything else and John continued to stroke his hair while he gathered his thoughts. “I’m scared,” he finally said.  “A big party makes it real.  You have to admit, our wedding definitely wasn’t traditional.  We were already living together.  We didn’t have a honeymoon.  Standing in front of everyone as a married couple,” he paused, “changes everything.” 

Alex sat up, turned to face John, and took his face between his hands.  “Nothing will change.  I will still love you more than life itself.  You will continue to worship the ground I walk on,” he smiled that thousand watt smile that always turned John to putty in his hands.  “Our friends love us and want us to be happy.  This is just a chance for us to celebrate.  Outside of a bedside hospital dinner.”

John pressed their heads together.  “I’m sorry.  I will do better.” 

Alex pulled away and laughed.  “You’d better.  This needs to be the party of all parties!” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“You’d better do that, too.  I’ve been feeling neglected.” 

 

Two days later, John was standing in front of the open armoire again when his phone signaled an incoming text.  Even though it was a “reception, and not a wedding, Alex had wanted to be surprised when they saw one another for the first time in front of their families and friends as a married couple.  He had spent the night with Lafayette and had taken his coordinating suit with him.  They planned to meet in front of the doors to the hall and enter when they heard the DJ announce them.  John looked at the message: 

 **My Husband:** _I’m going to do all kinds of nasty things to you tonight._  

John sent several suggestive emojis in response, smiled and put his phone in his breast pocket before checking to make sure he had everything he needed and meeting his Uber outside.  Alex continued his promises and innuendo throughout the ride and John knew it would take all of his will power to keep from molesting him in front of their guests. 

Or so he thought.  When he saw Alex standing in the entrance, his breath caught.  All of the heat and lust that had built up during the ride melted away, replaced by something else. True love? John couldn't describe it. But he knew he was happier than he had ever been and couldn't wait to take Alex's hand in his. Alex’s loose hair fell in a cascade over his shoulders. His lashes were full and lush and highlighted the spark in his eyes. His suit was perfectly tailored to emphasize his shapely calves and slender physique.  John crossed the distance between them in three steps and kissed Alex like a desperate man, one who needed the contact of their lips to survive.  Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the DJ calling their names and the doors opening, followed by the cheering and catcalls of their guests.  His cheeks flushed and he pulled away.  Alex swayed slightly as they parted and his eyes blinked open.  

“I love you,” John whispered before taking Alex’s hand and entering the room.  He escorted Alex to the middle of the dance floor and lifted his hand, kissing his knuckles. He was so happy, he could barely hear the dulcet tones of the quartet playing 'their' song. "May I have this dance?" “Yes, love. Let’s get this party started,” Alex laughed. And they did.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't let John's birthday pass.
> 
> Dr. Benjamin Rush is probably better known than Dr. James Mann but since his Yellow Fever treatments probably killed more patients than the disease, Dr. Mann gets the honors here.


End file.
